The Sam Winchester Chronicles: Angel Dream
by Raptorsclaw
Summary: Sam and Dean must protect a young woman who is so important to heaven that Castiel, the new "sheriff of heaven" has been sent down to bring her to heaven.  First in the Sam Winchester Chronicles series.
1. Chapter 1

In the woods of Oregon.

Sam and Dean burst through the bushes, towing a young woman with strawberry blonde hair between them. The girl stumbled over a tree root sticking out of the ground and fell on her face. Sam skidded to a stop and ran back to her, kneeling beside her, helping her sit up. He looked at her scraped hands and knees, heard her heavy breathing. Sam looked up at Dean, who'd stopped running and backtracked to the two of them.

Sam shook his head. "She can't keep going like this, Dean."

"We have to," Dean said adamantly. "According to Cas, if we don't get her to him before the sun rises, she'll be stuck here forever, dodging demons for the rest of her life. What's more, she'll die if Cas doesn't work his hoodoo on her tonight!" Dean lowered his voice a notch, realizing that he was being too hard on Sam. "I know you don't want her to leave, but she doesn't belong here, and you know it."

Sam's eyes grew darker and sadder. He looked at the young woman and said, "Elizabeth?"

She turned her large, green eyes to look into his soft, hazel ones. Sam could see the longing there, and the fear of death. Swallowing hard, trying not to show his own sorrow at her leaving, he said, "You do want to go home, don't you?"

Elizabeth held his gaze for a long moment. Then she looked up at the sky wistfully. It was already starting to turn pink as dawn approached, and only a few stars continued to glimmer overhead. Once the last one disappeared, so would her last chance to leave.

Sam tugged on her arm. Elizabeth got to her feet and went with the boys. Dean stole a glance behind him. "Sam!"

Sam glanced over his shoulder. Three men with black eyes were following them, and accompanying them was the Queen Bitch herself.

"Meg," Sam muttered. He scooped up Elizabeth in his big, strong arms and carried her easily as he ran, wondering why he hadn't just carried her this whole time anyway. It wasn't as though he hadn't known he'd enjoy the feeling of holding her in his arms.

"Cas said it's just on the other side of these woods," Dean said, panting as he ran alongside Sam, barely keeping up with his brother's long-legged strides.

Suddenly, Meg appeared in front of them, dark, deadly, and beautiful. "I'm getting sick of this game," she growled sweetly. "You guys are getting to be a real pain in the ass."

Sam's lips drew back and he snarled, "You so much as touch her, and I swear-"

Meg looked appalled. She placed her hands on her hips and taunted, "Good little Sammy, swearing?" She waggled a finger at him. "What would your mommy say?"

Sam chose not to dignify her remark with a reaction. The sadistic bitch was just trying to provoke him.

Seeing that she had not gotten the reaction she'd wanted, Meg raised her hand, and with a flick of her wrist, sent Sam flying backwards into the trunk of a very hard tree. Then she turned to Dean, raised her palm, fingers spread, and Dean slid backwards into another tree, and unseen force dragging him three feet up the trunk and letting him hang there, kicking and fighting and shouting obscenities at her.

Meg sauntered up to Sam and cupped his chin in her hand. Sam cringed, hip lip curling and his flesh crawling in disgust. "Don't worry, sweetie," Meg crooned. "I'm not gonna hurt her. That'd be overkill, and I'm not into that. It's so pointless, you know?"

"Then why the hell are you here?" said Sam, grinding his teeth in both rage and pain. It's impossible for most people to imagine the agony of struggling to free yourself from an invisible force grabbing you around the neck, shoulders, stomach, thighs, and legs.

Meg grinned evilly and stepped back. "To watch the show. An artist likes to view her handiwork, you know, to be sure everything goes exactly as planned." She spread her hands in an all-encompassing gesture. "And you boys are so lucky; you get front-row seats! Oh…" she placed a finger on her chin thoughtfully and feigned sadness. "Although, I suppose Sam would think of it as a tragedy."

Sam snarled, "Go back to hell, you bitch."

Meg grinned viciously. "It won't be anytime soon, I can promise you that."

Sam looked over at Elizabeth. As the last star's twinkle began to dim, Elizabeth doubled over and collapsed on the ground, coughing and gasping. Blood drained from her nose and mouth.

"It's just too bad, though," Meg mused. "That angel dick friend of yours is gonna miss the chance of a lifetime- watching his only living niece die, nice and slow."

Sam lurched, trying to break free from Meg's invisible grip, but it was useless. He could only stare in horror as the frail, gentle, beautiful girl spit up her insides. "Elizabeth!"


	2. Chapter 2

Two days ago.

Dean turned the wheel of the Impala, successfully navigating the winding roads on the way to small city of Emporia, Kansas. He glanced at the papers Sam had spread out in his lap to look through. "Sam, I don't know," Dean said. "This job sounds pretty tame to me."

Sam tucked his pen behind his ear and frowned at Dean. "You call two people being stabbed in their sleep 'tame'?"

Dean frowned back at him. "No, of course not. You know what I mean, Sam. I just don't think this is our kind of gig."

Sam scanned through one of the newspaper articles open on his lap. "It sounds like our kind of case to me, Dean. According to an interview with her doctor, Miss Elizabeth Peabody neither was nor heard the attack, but felt that something was seriously wrong, even though she, too, was asleep at the time."

"Her doctor?" said Dean. "Why didn't they talk to _her_?"

"She can't talk," Sam explained to him. "She has above-average hearing, but she's mute."

Dean nodded in acknowledgement. "But I still don't get why you think it's something supernatural. Lots of people feel bad vibes- most people, to some degree. And then there's empaths and certain kinds of psychics that can feel everyone."

Sam shook his head. "I doubt that's the case here. According to her doctor, again, she has a mental condition that prevents her from feeling all but the strongest emotions."

Dean raised his eyebrows curiously. "Yeah, I'd call that pretty 'mental'."

Sam glared at Dean, angered by his brother's heartlessness. "She was born with this condition, Dean. You didn't call me 'mental' when you found out I was psychic."

Dean smirked. "Wow, Sammy- sticking up for a girl you've never even met?"

Sam gave him a puzzled look, and then he realized what Dean was hinting at. "Oh, come on, man!"

Dean kept grinning. "Well, I've been wondering why you were so hot to jump on this case. Maybe you weren't. Maybe you just want to jump on _her_ cuz _she's_ hot."

Sam's mouth fell open. "Dean, who do you think you're talking about? You're describing yourself."

"Hey, Sammy, every guy's gotta let go sooner or later. You're no different. Porn and jacking off only go so far."

Sam rolled his eyes and started looking through the papers again. "Could you just drop the subject, please?"

Dean shrugged and fell silent- for a moment. Then he piped up, "Hey, when _was_ the last time you got any action, anyway?"

Sam huffed, "Dean!"

"Well, what's it been, like four years?"

Sam's lips tightened at an unpleasant thought. "No, it was Ruby."

Dean grimaced. "Yeah, but she doesn't count. I mean, you didn't actually feel anything for her, right? You were just depressed and tense, and she was handy."

Sam gritted his teeth angrily. "Dean, I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Dean heard the finality in his little brother's voice and looked over at him. Sam's nostrils were flaring and his eyes were burning furiously. "Okay, Sam," Dean agreed, not wanting to start a fight. On occasion, even Dean could see when he'd carried his teasing too far.

Sam frowned at a news clipping. Dean misunderstood his bitchface and said, "Come on, Sam, I didn't mean to hit a sore spot."

Sam shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's an interview with the policeman who first arrived at the scene. He says he shined his flashlight on Rachel Peabody's body and saw an eerie shadow, like an angel's spread wings."

Dean whipped his head around to catch Sam's stunned expression, mirrored on his own face. "An angel?"

"That's what he said."

"So someone's killing angels again?"

Sam nodded solemnly. "Apparently."

Dean looked puzzled. "Okay, so if someone's offing angels-"

"Why haven't we heard from Cas yet?" Sam finished for him.

Dean frowned and shoved the question aside for the moment. "Well, I think we need to go talk to that girl Elizabeth. Her doctor's answering all her questions for her, so I figure she's at a hospital, right?"

Sam glanced through the papers again. "Yeah, the Newman Regional Medical Center."

Dean nodded. "Well, let's go pay Lizzie a visit." He stepped down on the gas pedal, increasing the Impala's speed to eight- on a fifty-five miles per hour road.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean and Sam got a hotel room, changed into their cheap suits, the ones Sam had convinced Dean to buy five years before, and went to the hospital, posing as FBI agents in order to talk to Dr. Fisher, Elizabeth Peabody's doctor. Fisher was a petite, middle-aged woman, with short, salt and pepper hair and silver-rimmed glasses that perched on the end of her nose. "What did you say your names were?" she asked the two young men standing in front of her desk.

"Agent Smith," Dean said. "This is Agent Jones." (_Awfully commonplace names_, Sam had said when Dean suggested them. _Worked for the Men In Black_, Dean had replied with a slight grin.) "We're here to ask Miss Peabody some questions about the murder."

Fisher led them down the hall towards Elizabeth's room. "You will have to be very gentle with her. She has been greatly traumatized. Because of her unique condition, Elizabeth can't feel any but the strongest emotions, and when she does…" Fisher shook her head sadly. "It can be very tragic."

"I can assure you," Sam said, casting a warning glance at Dean, "we will be sympathetic towards her. We don't intend to ask anything disturbing. We just want facts, that's all."

Dean asked, "Can you tell us more about her condition?"

Fisher nodded. "Until she was born, I'd always thought cases like hers were strictly hypothetical. See, she has a chemical imbalance in her frontal lobe, the portion of the brain that controls emotions, that prevents the synapses from firing under normal circumstances. It takes a large shock of some sort to produce enough chemicals to allow a reaction to occur that can be identified as emotion. When that happens, the burst of emotion is so great, and she is so unaccustomed to it, that she cannot handle it."

Sam nodded politely. Dean had the impression that his geeky, college-boy brother actually understood one or two words of what the doctor had said. Dean had, at least, picked up on the general gist of her message. Elizabeth had been born with some mental condition, and she couldn't feel anything unless it was strong enough to give a weaker person a heart attack, and then the poor girl couldn't handle it. "And that's what happened the other night?" asked Dean.

Fisher nodded.

"Is that why she's in the hospital?" inquired Sam.

"Yes. I want to monitor her condition until I can be sure that she is stable enough to be on her own."

"How long do you think that will take?" asked Sam.

"She's doing surprisingly well," Fisher said. "I'm planning on releasing her this afternoon."

Dean gave her a stunned look. "But it just happened a couple of days ago."

Fisher replied, "As I said, she's doing surprisingly well. She is as calm and placid as she normally is, resuming her daily routine, and I see no reason to imprison her here any longer than necessary." She stopped in front of a door. "What worries me is how she'll live after I discharge her."

"What do you mean?" asked Dean.

"The poor girl," Fisher said. "She's twenty-six years old, lived her entire life at home with her parents. After high school, she never went to college, never got any job experience. She devoted her entire life to her family, I think because she felt that she needed them. Now that they're gone, I believe she's shut off a part of herself in an effort to move on without them."

Sam swallowed hard and lowered his eyes, sympathizing with the young woman.

"She would have done anything to help them," Fisher continued. "If you want the truth, I don't think she's ready to leave. But, as she exhibits no physical reason not to leave, I think it would be unfair to keep her here.

"This is her room. If you're ready, we can go in."

Dean noticed how Sam's lips twitched as he thought about the girl's unusual circumstances. Sam looked up at his brother, took a deep breath, straightened up, and nodded.

Dean smiled at Fisher. "Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

4

Elizabeth Peabody sat in her hospital bed, flipping through her Bible one page at a time, sometimes pausing to read a verse, sometimes looking very closely at one of the beautiful paintings of angels reproduced in her copy. A soft knock at the door made her look up. Dr. Fisher entered, smiling. "Good morning, Elizabeth. These two young men wish to speak with you."

Elizabeth looked up as two tall, handsome, dark-haired young men in cheap suits followed Dr. Fisher into her room. They weren't doctors, so they were probably cops or something. There'd been a lot of police officers coming to see her lately. She used sign language to ask Dr. Fisher a question.

"Yes," the taller of the two men answered her. "We do have some questions about your parents."

Elizabeth folded her hands in her lap and nodded.

The other young man was giving the tall one a funny look. He apparently had had no idea that his partner could speak sign language. After a moment, he turned to Dr. Fisher and asked, "Could we talk to Elizabeth in private?"

Dr. Fisher glanced at Elizabeth. The girl nodded. Dr. Fisher looked back at the two young men and said, "If you need anything, let me know." And she left them alone.

The two men pulled out their FBI badges and handed them to her, introducing themselves as they did so. The tall one was Sam Jones, and the other one was Dean Smith. Elizabeth thought their names sounded strange, even fake, but their badges looked authentic. She handed Dean's card back to him after a quick glance, but she held Sam's card for a few seconds longer, looking at his picture. Both young men were very nice to look at, but Sam was somewhat more appealing to Elizabeth. He struck her as being sweeter and more sensitive. Elizabeth handed his card back to him.

Sam took his card and smiled at Elizabeth as he pulled up a chair to sit beside her bed. Dean did the same on the other side. "Now, Miss Peabody," he began.

She signed quickly.

"_Elizabeth_," Sam translated.

"Elizabeth," Dean corrected himself. "Can I call you Liz?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

Sam smiled a little at Dean's annoyed frown, small dimples forming in Sam's round cheeks. "Elizabeth," he said softly, "first of all, I know how hard this has been for you, so if you think we're prying too much, let us know and we'll stop."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

"You didn't see or hear anything, right?" asked Dean, plunging into the interrogation.

Elizabeth nodded.

"How did you know it happened?"

Elizabeth began signing. Sam watched her hands as he translated, "_I knew something was wrong, because I was dreaming about my family. I only dream when something bad happens. I woke up feeling very scared and ran into their room, and_-"

She stopped, her face pale, and dropped her hands back in her lap, lowering her eyes. Sam reached out and squeezed her hand encouragingly. Elizabeth met his gaze. Her heart had managed to leap into her throat, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

"You didn't see anyone?" Dean continued cautiously, not wanting to upset her. "No signs of entry or exit?"

Elizabeth looked at him curiously. "_No, and neither did the police. Didn't you read the report?_"

Sam's and Dean's faces tightened perceptibly. "Of course," Dean said, obviously lying. "We just want your perspective."

Elizabeth knew he was lying, but something about the two men told her they could be trusted to help her. She folded her hands and waited for the next question, which came from Sam. "What happened next?"

Elizabeth signed, and Sam translated, "_I must have fainted, because I woke up suddenly and saw that an hour had gone by. I ran next door. Our neighbors understood sign language. I managed somehow to explain the matter to them through my hysterics, and they called the police._

"_The police at first thought I was a suspect. I was there, they couldn't find any signs that anyone else had been there, so I was a major suspect_."

Sam looked thoughtful. "Why didn't they arrest you, then?"

"_Dr. Fisher. She explained to them that, because of my condition, there is no way I could hide something like that. They used a lie detector on me, and got no response. According to Dr. Fisher, that proves me not guilty_."

Dean looked suspicious. "And the fact that you were a suspect in your own parents' murder didn't bother you?"

Elizabeth shook her head and signed, "_No, it was perfectly logical. Because of my illness, it's impossible for my judgment to be clouded by feelings and emotions_."

Dean looked across her bed at Sam. Sam looked quite thoughtful, but Dean was still very skeptical. Dean tilted his head as a signal for him and Sam to leave, and they both rose to their feet. "Well, I think that just about covers it," Dean said. "We'll get out of your hair." He offered Elizabeth his hand. She shook his hand, and then Sam's.

As the boys started to leave, Elizabeth picked up her Bible and began looking for her place. Sam glanced over his shoulder, saw what she was reading, and turned around. He asked, seemingly as an afterthought, "One last question: Do you believe in angels?" He waited for Elizabeth's reply, to which he responded, "Yeah, we did read the policeman's interview."

Elizabeth flipped to one of the paintings in her Bible, this one showing the angels singing over Bethlehem. She pointed at a lovely, female angel with long, curly, dark hair. She handed the Bible to Sam and signed a comment to him. Sam raised his eyebrows and handed the Bible back to her. "Thank you," he said, smiling out of politeness rather than cheerfulness.

Elizabeth nodded.

As Sam turned away, Elizabeth heard Dean whisper to him, "What'd she say?"

Sam whispered back, "The angel in the picture looked just like her mother."

Dean raised his eyebrows, stunned. "Oh, is that all?"

As they left, Elizabeth couldn't help watching Sam, even craning her neck to see through the crack in the door until it closed.

Elizabeth realized suddenly what she was feeling, and she bit her lip lightly, smiling.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note: I did absolutely no research on Elizabeth's condition. I got the idea from an episode of Outer Limits about a young woman who had no emotions. Any similarities to any real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental._

Sam and Dean changed back into their normal, everyday clothes as soon as they returned to the hotel. Sam sat at the hotel room table, pursuing his favorite pastime of online research. Dean sat on his bed, talking on his cell phone. "Yeah, Bobby… Nothing?... Oh, that's what I was afraid of… No, Sam's doing the research right now… Well, thanks, anyway. I'll call if I need anymore help. And good luck on your job. What are you doing again?... You've gotta be kidding. Newkirk, Oklahoma? We passed through that on the way here. 'Bout a mile wide, maybe around a thousand people? Little small for a coven, isn't it?... Well, okay. Thanks, again. Talk to you later." He closed up his phone and looked up at Sam.

"So, Elizabeth's disease," Sam said, a little self-satisfied, "it _is_ real."

"Yeah, I figured that out when Bobby said he'd never heard of anything like her," Dean said.

"It's a very rare and practically unknown congenital condition," Sam said. "Got a name that's way too hard to pronounce."

Dean looked surprised. "_You_ can't even pronounce it? Must be really bad."

Sam frowned slightly, but thought better of acknowledging Dean's comment. "It's very rare, and very secret. Most doctors don't even know it exists. Those who do generally only know about it because they have a patient with the disease. And everything that would tell us any more than what we already know is locked up so tight it'll take me all night to hack into it."

Dean whistled. "_Some_body's trying to hide something."

"Whatever they're hiding is purely medical. I mean, one of the files I've been trying to get into- and can't- is by the FDA."

"So it's really _not_ our kind of thing."

"Not her disease, no," Sam admitted.

"If this is such a secret," Dean asked, "what's Elizabeth doing in some dinky little hospital in the city of Townsville?"

"Well, apparently her case is nowhere near as severe as some," Sam said. "All of Dr. Fisher's information checks out, except that nearly all patients with this disease are unable to feel any emotions whatsoever, no matter how strong. In fact, Elizabeth seems to be the only one who can feel emotion at all."

"Making her a _very_ unique case," Dean observed.

"Yeah."

"Which means, it might not even be real."

Sam started to say something, closed his mouth, took a couple of breaths, and said, "Whether it is or not, that still doesn't explain the angel killing. That's _definitely_ in our league."

"We don't even know that this Rachel was an angel," Dean said. "All we have is the story of some cop who was probably half, if not wholly, drunk at the time and was probably seeing things."

"What about Elizabeth saying that picture of the angel looked just like her mother?"

Dean shrugged. "Coincidence."

Sam frowned. It was interesting how Dean only called something a coincidence when he didn't want to believe the truth. "And the coroner's report on Rachel and Jeremy Peabody, saying that they 'appear to have been killed by a long, sharp stake of some kind, although it has been impossible so far to determine the exact material used to make the stake.' That's a pretty good description of the angel swords."

"So?" said Dean. "Sam, if this is angels, where is Cas, huh? I mean, he's so worried about all his brothers and sister dying on the field, why isn't he here? And why are you so willing to believe Lizzie? She's yet to give us a good reason to."

Sam's voice was quieter, but still angry, as he said, "I don't think it's fair for us to accuse some poor girl when we don't have all the facts."

Dean stared at him for a minute. "What about all the things you've done lately, huh, Sam? You've been cold and distant ever since you came back from hell. Now all of a sudden, you want to protect some girl who's probably a murderess? What, are you trying to prove something?"

Sam set his jaw, trying hard to control his temper. He was so on edge these days, so close to blowing up at any little thing, he had to work to keep his cool. "I just want to keep people safe, Dean. I just want to do my job and protect as many people as I can."

"Bang-up job you've been doing so far, bro," Dean said sourly. "Even though you don't seem to notice how many people you trample in your rush to make the world a safer place to live."

A rush of wind made them both look back into the middle of the room.

"Cas!" they both exclaimed.

Castiel was as calm and placid and serious as ever. His trench coat waved slightly in the breeze he'd created. "He's right, Dean, about Elizabeth. This is the most important and the most dangerous case you've had since the Apocalypse."


	6. Chapter 6

6

Dean was stunned by Cas' comment. "What do you mean, this our 'most important and dangerous case'? Why?"

"Elizabeth is not a normal girl," Cas told him.

"Thanks for the news flash, O'Reilly," Dean quipped. "We already figured that out."

Cas continued, as though Dean hadn't spoken, "Her mother, Rachel, was a member of my garrison." He closed his eyes sorrowfully for just a second. "She was one of my closest sisters."

"What about her husband, Jeremy?" asked Sam.

"He was human," Cas answered.

Dean tried to make sense of what Cas was saying. "So Elizabeth was Jeremy's daughter?"

"And Rachel's," Cas said.

Sam asked, "Angels can have children?"

"Of course," Cas said. "We were created with reproductive abilities similar to those of humans."

Dean looked sick. "Spare me the details." He sat down on the bed. "So if Liz is an angel-"

"She's not," Cas informed him.

Dean was really confused now. "But you just said-"

"She is the daughter of angel," Cas reiterated. "But she is also the daughter of a human. She herself is not an angel, because the human part of her hides her angel powers. She is mortal and she cannot spread her wings, but she does have wings, and heightened senses, and angelic healing powers."

"She also doesn't have a voice," Sam said. "Or emotions."

Cas lowered his gaze, not wanting to have to explain the truth to them. "Rachel was not the first angel to have a child. It is, however, considered to be an act of rebellion to conceive a child that is a…." He paused, searching for an appropriate term.

"Half-breed?" ventured Dean.

Cas frowned. "Harshly put. But yes, she is, in essence, a mortal angel. The same things that can kill any other human can kill her. And she can both speak and feel, but only as an angel does."

Sam was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Cas glanced upwards for a minute and replied, "I'll show you. She just left the hospital and is on the way to her new apartment. I'll take you to her."

"Wait a minute," Sam said quickly. "If we appear suddenly, that'll be quite a choke, with her condition. Won't we just scare the hell out of her?"

Cas looked a little puzzled. "She's part angel. There is no hell in her. The two could not coexist." He smiled a little.

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean frowned at Cas. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"Yes," Cas replied, pleased. "How was it?"

Dean answered, "Needs work- a lot of it."

Cas looked crestfallen.

Dean said, "We'll take my car."

Sam and Dean were in the front seat, Cas in the back. "So what makes her so important?" Dean wondered.

Cas replied, "Mortal angels are very powerful people, although they don't know it yet, much like Sam and the other children Azazel created."

Sam glanced at Cas warningly in the rear view mirror.

Cas either didn't notice or didn't understand Sam's look. He continued, "Her powers can be passed on to her children, like a genetic trait. If she is with a human, her child will be a mortal angel, like her. But if she is with an angel, there is a very strong chance that her child could be a full-blooded angel."

"So…" Sam looked thoughtful. "Oh, I get it- the demons, right? They don't want to take a chance on her having any children and starting a new angel army."

Cas nodded. "Yes, and Elizabeth is the easiest target heaven has ever produced. She has all the powers of an angel, except flight, yet she can be killed by anything."

Dean was pensive. "So what good'll it do to try to hide her? I mean, where can she go that the demons won't get her?"

"Heaven," Cas answered readily.

Dean nodded rather humbly. "Okay, yeah, I guess so."

"But she's not a real angel," Sam pointed out. "How can you get a living person into heaven?"

"There's a ritual," Cas told him, "that has to be performed on the night of the full moon."

"That's tomorrow night," Dean said.

Cas nodded.

Dean pursed his lips. "So, all we have to do is kidnap Elizabeth and hold her prisoner until tomorrow night, when you work your angel mojo to ship her up to heaven, and all without scaring her?"

"Yes, basically."

Dean sighed and said sarcastically, "Should be simple."

"And then what happens to her?" Sam asked worriedly.

"She will live in heaven under the care of the angels for the rest of eternity."

"Can she ever come back?" asked Sam.

"Only if she voluntarily joins the service of the angels," Cas said. "Then, after she has been a warrior for heaven for a certain amount of time, she can be transformed into a full-blooded angel, and will be able to come to Earth like all other angels."

Sam asked, "How long would that take?"

"One hundred years."

"Oh…." Sam said softly. His lips twitched ever so slightly, and he looked out the side window.


	7. Chapter 7

Elizabeth heard a knock on the door of the apartment that Dr. Fisher had rented for her. She had just finished a simple dinner of a bologna sandwich and potato chips, and she was still picking her teeth when she hurried to the door. She opened it and looked outside.

It was Sam and Dean, accompanied by another man with short, dark hair, standing a couple of inches shorter than Dean and looking equally attractive, wearing a tan trench coat. Sam flashed a quick smile at Elizabeth, prompting her to hide her toothpick in the pocket of her blue jeans. She signed quickly to him.

"No, we don't need to ask any more questions," Sam answered her.

"We know who killed your parents," Dean said bluntly.

Elizabeth's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"And we think they're gonna try to kill you, too," Dean finished.

Elizabeth covered her face with her hand, breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating. Sam grabbed her shoulders. "Elizabeth?" He turned to Dean and whispered fiercely, "Way to break it to her gently!"

Dean gave him an innocent look.

"Elizabeth?" Sam said again.

Elizabeth caught her breath and nodded quickly. She opened the door wider and motioned for them to come in.

Dean touched the shoulder of the man in the trench coat. "Elizabeth, this is our partner, Cas."

Elizabeth offered her hand to the man. He took her hand firmly and said, "Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord."

Dean shut his eyes tight, as if from pain. "Cas, do we really have to start with that?"

Cas replied, "I feel it best to begin with complete honesty. We don't have time to puppy-foot around."

Puppy-foot? Dean responded with an appropriately annoyed expression.

Cas placed his hand on Elizabeth's forehead. Fire and electricity surged through her, burning her. She started screaming.

"What the hell are you doing?" shouted Dean.

Sam added, "You're killing her!"

Elizabeth's voice became piercing. Cas turned to Sam and Dean and ordered, "Go outside, close your eyes, and cover your ears. Now!"

They did as they were told.

Elizabeth's voice reached ultrasound, and she was stunned by a blinding light and a voice only a few Hertz lower than hers. She stopped shrieking and listened.

She could understand him! He was calling her name. "It's true," she said softly, in her true, shrill, unearthly voice. "You're an angel. My mother used to sing to me in a voice like yours, and she was an angel, too. I always knew it."

"Rachel was my sister," Cas said.

Elizabeth smiled. "Am I an angel, too?"

"Not yet," Cas said. "But I'll take you to heaven, and after a time, you can choose to become an angel."

His promise sounded impossible, but Elizabeth had dreamed of this many times, of being an angel like she knew her mother was, and Castiel seemed trustworthy.

She smiled at him and nodded her consent.


	8. Chapter 8

"So let me get this straight," Dean said, utterly confused. "You actually _can_ talk, but not like a human?"

"She speaks with an angel's voice," Cas said.

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, when people dream of angels' voices, bleeding ears aren't usually part of the fantasy."

Which brought a question to mind for Sam. "How come she can't speak without her 'true voice', but you have to turn back into an angel to use yours?"

"I am a full-blooded angel in a vessel," Cas reminded them. "But Elizabeth's body was created specifically to contain all her powers, allowing them to come through as necessary. Otherwise, her powers would have combusted and burned up both her and her mother."

Elizabeth frowned and signed at Cas. Sam chuckled softly. "She says you're a lot of laughs, Cas- and she was being sarcastic."

Dean gave Elizabeth an angry look. "And you're not emotionless, either. You do at least have a sense of humor. Not a very good one, but it's there."

Sam again translated Elizabeth's sign language, "_Until I was about six, I couldn't feel any emotions at all. Dr. Fisher wrote an article about me, but the American Psychology Association wanted to keep me classified, use me as research. About that time, the dull part of me that was my mother's angel nature became overshadowed by my father's humanity, and I began to show emotions- wild, extreme, uncontrollable, impossible to hide. Fisher changed her report to say that I could feel, but only in cases of extreme shock. She consulted with the APA, they ran a bunch of crap tests and came up with that cock-and-bull story that she fed to you._

"_I laughed for the first time when I was seven. By the time I was fifteen, my emotions were as fully developed as that of any normal person_."

Dean was still angry that she'd lied to them. "What about all that crap about 'logic not being clouded'? And how'd you fool a lie detector?"

"_As my emotions developed, so did an unusual ability. I can control my emotions so well that, except in cases of major shock or excitement, I can make it look like I have no emotions at all. I can even fool a lie detector, and I find it very helpful to keep my mind clear so I can think_."

"Are you doing it now?" asked Sam.

Elizabeth looked into his soft, bright eyes, smiled, and shook her head. "_No, I'm enjoying this feeling of ecstasy. I finally know who and what I am, and why I am that way_."

Sam lowered his eyes thoughtfully. "I understand how you feel."

Elizabeth smiled at him gently. She didn't understand what he meant, but she could see that he was sincere. She glanced up at Cas and signed at the other two. Sam told Dean, "She wants a minute alone with Cas."

"Okay," Dean agreed, getting up. "Take all the time you need."

Sam went out the door with his brother. "We'll just be in the next room," she promised Elizabeth.

Elizabeth watched them both leave. Then she got up and moved to a window. It was after ten o'clock at night. It had taken all evening for the guys to explain things to her- about the Apocalypse, angels, demons, and what Sam and Dean actually did for a living, if one chooses to call it "living". Slowly, Elizabeth was starting to make some sense out of all of it. She looked up at the stars and asked Cas, in her unearthly angel voice, "So where is it?"

Cas pointed up at a portion of the sky. He used his human voice to speak to her, rather than changing to his angel form. "Up there, between those three stars."

Elizabeth stared at the spot where he pointed. She was very happy, but a thought made her frown. "I don't want to seem ungrateful, but… will I be able to return to Earth?"

Cas shook his head. "Once in a while, under extreme circumstances, you might be able to get special permission to appear as an apparition in a dream, but you won't actually be allowed to return until you are a full angel."

Something in Castiel's words prompted her to ask, "How long will that take?"

"One hundred Earth years."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "A hundred years? Why so long?" She folded her arms and looked at him sternly. "Is that how long it will take for me to lose my humanity?"

Cas gave her a warning look, which she ignored. She continued, "My mother loved me and my father, but that's it. She was really quite cold towards everyone else. You're only slightly better after two years with the Winchesters than she was after twenty-seven years on Earth. I actually see more hope for you than I ever did for her."

Cas looked tense and angry. "Elizabeth, we are what we are because we have to be this way."

"Right," Elizabeth said. "You all have to be a bunch of unfeeling, uncaring bitches and dicks; otherwise, you'll end up caring about the poor bastards that you loyal warriors are told to assassinate. I won't do it."

Cas squared his shoulders and looked at her severely, trying to ignore the way her words hurt him, cutting like a hot knife. "You have to."

"If you're so powerful," Elizabeth said, "why ask me? Why not just take me?"

Cas was silent.

"Cuz you have to ask," Elizabeth answered herself. "And I have to say yes."

"It's the way we angels work," Cas said.

"I won't do it," Elizabeth said again. She turned and started to walk away.

"If you don't, the demons will find you and kill you," Cas said. "The torture in hell for a mortal angel is intense, unimaginable. When you become a demon, you will be one of the most vile, murderous, conniving creatures in all of the universe. Is that what you want?"

Elizabeth whirled and glared at him. "Well, isn't that what you three chuckleheads are here for- to protect me?"

"Two humans and one angel cannot fight off an entire demon army. They will kill Sam and Dean, and since they apparently have seized control of an angel blade, they will probably kill me, too. Then they will kidnap you and drag you to hell."

Elizabeth's stomach churned. She didn't want them to die. And she didn't want to die herself and become some evil, unholy monster. She asked, "When will you take me?"

"Tomorrow night."

Elizabeth nodded. "I'll decide then."


	9. Chapter 9

Sam looked down at lovely Elizabeth's sleeping form. Her chest rose and fell regularly with her breathing.

Sam found himself nodding off and he sat up quickly, opening his eyes wider. He looked up at the clock. It was almost 5:30 in the morning. Sam and Dean and Cas had brought Elizabeth back to Bobby's panic room while Bobby was gone. Cas had left soon after, saying that he had to prepare the ritual site and he would see them later. That was around eleven o'clock. About midnight, Elizabeth finally fell asleep on the cot.

Sam and Dean had proceeded to split the night into two-hour watches. Sam, after winning a round of rock-paper-scissors, took the first watch. He awakened Dean for the second, holding a hand over his brother's mouth to stifle the obscenities that came from being awakened from "the best dream since that one about Sandra Bullock and a case of Cool Whip". Sam rolled his eyes, grimaced, wisely decided not to ask any questions, and curled up on the floor to go to sleep.

Two hours later, Sam began his second watch. He sat in a chair beside Elizabeth, facing the bolted iron door, the salt gun laid across his lap. He leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling, trying to stay awake.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, and he realized he'd been dozing off. He looked up and saw Dean's smiling eyes. Apparently, Sam had been out for a few moments. He checked the clock again. 5:35. He frowned inwardly. Anything could happen in five minutes.

But Dean's expression was more sympathetic than scolding. He nodded towards the floor and suggested, "Why don't you get some sleep? I'll go ahead and take my watch."

Sam stretched and blinked rapidly. "I just… had something in my eyes."

"Uh-huh, sure." Dean pulled up another chair beside Sam.

Sam was worried. Had something awakened his sleeps-like-a-petrified-log brother? "Why'd you wake up, anyway?"

"I was starting to dream again," Dean quipped, "and I didn't want you to wake me up just when it gets good."

Sam groaned softly, shaking his head, tousled brown strands flying around his face.

"Hey, Sam," Dean said, suddenly serious, "I was thinking, about what you said earlier, about Liz and how you're not gonna let someone die for no reason, and… well… I'm sorry. I guess I should've trusted your instinct. I mean, she's not emotionless, like you thought, but she was innocent." He took the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Sam. "Here."

Sam narrowed his eyes questioningly and looked at the keys as though they were a rattlesnake. "Here, what?"

Dean jingled the keys. "I'm letting you call the shots on this one."

Sam raised his eyebrows and pushed Dean's hand away. "No."

Dean spread his hands in dismay. "You said you were tired of me bossing you around-"

"And you think I wanna do that to you?" Sam asked. "Dean, I don't want to be top dog. I want us to be equal partners. I want us to be a team. I want us to be…" He stopped suddenly and studied his hands.

Dean stared at him expectantly. "Be what?"

Sam sighed heavily. His tongue flicked out across his lips and he said softly, "I want us to be brothers."

Dean looked shocked. "Well, Sammy, the last time I looked at our birth certificates, we _were_ brothers."

Sam was rolling his eyes before Dean was half-done. "No, Dean, I mean close. Give and take, not shoving crap down each other's throats. That's all I ever wanted. And…" He hung his head. "I know a lot of it's my fault. Some of the things I've done… But Dean, some of it's you, too. Yeah, I guess I've been pretty selfish, but I just can't…" He paused, thinking, and shrugged. "I just can't. Not anymore. I need us to be close friends."

Dean lowered his eyes and pocketed his keys. "Okay, Sam. I get what you're saying."

They both fell silent. Dean pursed his lips and tapped his heels on the floor. Sam studied his hands some more, and then looked up at Elizabeth.

The girl stirred, stretched, and opened her eyes. Sam and Dean both rose and stood over her bed. Elizabeth sat up on her elbows and stared back at them. After a moment, a smile crossed her face, and she signed to Sam. Sam smiled, too, and even laughed lightly.

"What'd she say?" asked Dean, eager to be in on the joke.

Sam said, a little shyly, "That it's unnerving to wake up and see two…" He smiled at Elizabeth. "Two such handsome men staring down at her."

Dean was pleased by the girl's comment. "At least Lizzie has taste," he said smugly.

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head at him.

Sam chuckled, "Um, I think she was talking about me, too."

Dean looked appalled at the idea.

Elizabeth laughed, a light, breathy, happy sound.


	10. Chapter 10

The day passed very slowly. Sam and Dean took turns napping until both were fully rested. Elizabeth stared at the ceiling, looked over at Sam, looked away casually when he noticed her watching him, looked back up at the ceiling. Dean left the room a couple of times, once to order donuts for breakfast, and once to order pizza for lunch. The three of them ate their meals in the panic room. That afternoon, when all of them were finally awake at the same time, they played poker (for potato chips, as Elizabeth didn't believe in gambling, to which Dean muttered some comment about her acting like a perfect little angel) and listened to Dean's AC/DC and Blue Oyster Cult cassettes on Bobby's old cassette player.

Around four o'clock in the afternoon, Elizabeth's nerves caught up with her, and she just sat staring at her watch, tapping her cards on the table.

Dean spread his cards on the table and grinned smugly. "Full house. Kings over tens. Beat that."

Sam was watching Elizabeth. "Huh? Oh, uh… I'm out." He tossed his cards down.

Dean was stunned by Sam's move. "Dude, you had four aces!"

Sam wasn't listening. He touched Elizabeth's shoulder. She jumped, startled.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

Elizabeth nodded, trembling, and signed, _I'm fine. Just nervous, that's all._

Now Dean was staring at his watch. "Where the hell is Cas?"

Sam shook his head. "I thought he would've been back by now."

They heard a noise outside the door. Elizabeth stood up quickly, her wide, frightened eyes staring at the door. Sam cocked the salt gun and stood in front of her protectively. Dean pulled his flask of holy water out of his jacket pocket. He looked through the peephole and sighed with relief as he opened the door. "Cas!"

Sam sighed and lowered his gun. Elizabeth slumped back down in the chair.

Dean closed and bolted the door. "The prodigal angel returns!" he proclaimed triumphantly. "What the hell took so long?"

"I told you I had to prepare the ritual site," Cas said, a little frustrated by Dean's ignorance and impatience.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean said, a little skeptical. "And just what all does that involve?"

"I had to find an indoor location, dark, secluded, abandoned, where no one will find us. The walls had to be covered in Enochian symbols. And I had to remove a portion of my grace in order to transport her."

Sam looked worried. "A portion of your grace? You mean, you took some of your power in order to do this?"

"Raw angel power," Cas affirmed. "This is a very complicated, difficult procedure. It can only be done with the raw power of an angel. Now, if I was an archangel, I wouldn't have needed to use so much, since my power would be stronger. But since I'm not, I had to use a lot more."

Dean had noticed that Cas looked quite worn and haggard. "You gonna be okay?"

Cas nodded tiredly. "Yes. I just need to rest." He looked up at Elizabeth. "Perhaps I will when this is over. We have to go. The demons are watching us closely. I think I might have been seen."

Dean and Sam both looked ready to punch him. "You _what_?"

Cas set his jaw and replied indignantly, "It's very difficult to do something like this in total secrecy. I didn't see any agents of hell, but I felt their presence. They are close. They are surrounding us as we speak. We must leave now." He looked up at Elizabeth. "Are you ready?"

Elizabeth tapped her fingernails on the table indecisively. Finally, she looked up and nodded stiffly.

Cas went to her and took her hand. "Then let's go."

Cas was too weak to fly all of them to the ritual site, and Elizabeth insisted that Sam and Dean be there with her, so- much to Cas' chagrin and annoyance- they went in the Impala. But Dean drove very fast, following Cas' directions. After an hour or so, he became frustrated and asked, "Can't you just tell me where the hell it is we're going?"

"No," Cas said. "If we run into demons, it would be unfortunate if they got the location from you."

Dean glared at Cas. "Now, how would they do that?"

"They have methods, Dean," Cas said somberly. "Some of which you have never encountered."

"What are you saying?" Dean asked, irritated. "That I'll give in to their torture?"

"It's happened before, Dean," Cas reminded him quietly.

Dean clenched his teeth. He was quiet for several minutes. Finally, he said, "You know, Cas, you have a knack for hitting sore spots. Why don't you just nail my crotch to the car door?"

"I was only answering your questions, Dean," Cas said.

Sam was in the backseat with Elizabeth. He was that she was looking out the window, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Elizabeth?"

She looked up at him, smiling tightly past clenched teeth. She winced, pressed harder, and let out a small whimper. Sam reached across the car and placed his hands on her shoulders, his round puppy eyes expressing deep concern. "Dean…!"

Dean was already watching Elizabeth in the rear-view mirror. She clasped both hands behind her head and leaned forward. "Oh, crap," Dean said. "Is she gonna hurl?"

"I-I don't know, dude," Sam said, his worried eyes never leaving her. "Just pull over."

Dean did so quickly. The car had barely stopped before Elizabeth yanked the car door open and tumbled out. Sam scooted across the car and hopped out after her. She knelt on the ground, doubled-up, clutching her head in both hands. Sam knelt beside her, holding her shoulders.

Dean and Cas both got out of the car and rushed to Elizabeth. "What's wrong with her?" Dean asked, sounding almost as scared as Sam.

"It's demonic witchcraft," Cas diagnosed.

Sam looked up at Cas, then back down at Elizabeth fearfully. Dean looked at Cas, reading the tension in the angel's face, and asked, "Are you sure?"

Cas bent over Elizabeth and parted the hair on the back of her head, revealing a strange symbol, a six-pointed star in a hexagon. "I've seen this symbol before. It's a demonic tracking symbol, used to track angels who demons consider to be targets."

Sam's head snapped up. "So she's been marked for death?"

"No," Cas said. "Not with this symbol. When an X covers the symbol, then she will be marked for death. When that happens, she will not survive past the following dawn."

Sam said frantically, "We've gotta get her off Earth, fast!"

Cas shook his head sadly. "The ritual cannot be performed until after dusk."

Dean sighed heavily. "Great. My question is, someone had to touch her to put that mark on he, so why didn't they just kill her then?"

"It's a tracking device," Cas reiterated. "They probably wanted to know what we planned to do with her. I'm pretty sure they've been watching us, and now that they know what we're going to do, they're ready to make their move. That's why she's in such pain. The demon who marked her must be nearby."

Elizabeth's headache was subsiding, and she, along with the other three, began looking around for anyone who seemed unnatural. Sam helped her stand up, and she was the first one to spot it. She pointed towards a small group of trees by the road.

A smiling young woman stood there, leaning against a tree, her arms folded. "Well, if it isn't the Winchester boys."


	11. Chapter 11

"Well, well, the Winchester boys," the woman said. "How long has it been?"

"Uh, never?" Dean ventured, looking over the beautiful, tan-skinned woman with flowing black hair, dark eyes, full lips, and a curvaceous figure.

She looked down at her figure and appeared to recall something she'd forgotten. "Oh, I forgot. My new meat. She was a secretary." Her dark brown eyes turned black. "She called me a bitch, so I possessed her."

Sam's lips curled into an angry grimace. "Meg."

Meg smiled at him sweetly and cooed, "And you go to the head of the class."

"Why'd you change hosts?"

Meg shrugged. "I got bored with my old one. She was so out of fashion. This is the new black."

"I like your new outfit," Dean said sourly. "You look like Jessica Alba. I always wanted to kick her ass."

Meg grinned at him. "More likely, she'd kick yours."

Sam stepped out in front of Elizabeth. Dean and Cas closed ranks on either side of him. "You're not touching her," Sam snarled.

"Oh, I don't have to," Meg said. "My hold on her is firm. Now, if I can just get that little dust speck out of the way…" She knelt down and cleared away some brush on the ground, revealing an Enochian symbol drawn in blood.

"No!" shouted Cas, coming forward.

They hadn't noticed before that her hand was bleeding. She slammed her hand on the symbol, and Cas vanished in a brilliant burst of light.

"How the hell did you know that symbol?" Dean demanded.

"Isn't it obvious?" Meg said, sounding genuinely surprised. "Especially in light of recent events."

Sam's mouth fell open. "You're the witch!"

Meg laughed mordantly.

"I should've known," Sam snarled. "All along. Summoning the daeva, talking to Azazel through a brass cup full of blood."

Meg snickered.

"That kind of crap is dark, heavy, old-school black magic," Sam said. "Even a demon can't pull it off without prior knowledge."

Meg smiled. "Ah, Sam, still as quick on the uptake as ever we were. It only took you… what, six years to figure me out?"

Sam and Dean both scowled at her.

"But you're right," Meg admitted, with some pride. "I am a witch. And I am the one who put the brand on her."

Sam had John's journal in his inner jacket pocket. He reached for it, saying, "And I am the one who's gonna stop your witchcraft here and now!" He opened it to one of the exorcisms.

"Oh, please," Meg said, bored and annoyed. With a slight wave of her hand, not even coming close to Sam, she spun him around, sprawling him across the hood of the Impala. The book flew out of his hand, into the middle of the road. Elizabeth rushed to him as he slid off the hood.

Dean spun towards Meg. "You're the Queen Bitch, you know that?"

A wave of Meg's hand pinned Dean to the ground. Both boys were down. Sam was unconscious. Meg approached Elizabeth, grinning so maliciously that Elizabeth wondered why she didn't have sharp fangs and horns protruding from her skull. With an angry grunt, Elizabeth launched herself at Meg, knocking the taller but lighter woman off her feet. They both fell to the ground, and Elizabeth punched Meg in the nose.

The only reason Elizabeth got a strike on Meg was because she took the demon by surprise. Meg threw her off, back against the Impala, so forcefully that Elizabeth actually dented the side door.

"Hey!" Dean called to Meg. "Watch what you're doing!"

Meg picked herself up and sauntered up to Elizabeth. "Amateur." She touched her hand to Elizabeth's head. The girl's eyes rolled back, and her head was surrounded by a fiery halo.

Dean pressed against the stony ground as hard as he could, but he couldn't pry himself loose. Sam's eyes opened slowly, and he saw what Meg was doing. He gathered his legs underneath him and launched himself at Meg, intending to knock her aside.

Meg vanished before he reached her. He landed on Elizabeth, lying on top of her with his face inches away from hers.

Dean thought of a good off-color comment to describe Sam and Elizabeth's position, but he shoved it aside when he realized that she was unconscious. He got up and knelt beside Sam. Sam held up Elizabeth's head while Dean parted her hair. A large, red welt in the shape of an X covered the six-sided symbol.

Sam looked up at Dean, his face pale and his eyes filled with terror.


	12. Chapter 12

Sam typed furiously on his laptop keyboard. He knew there had to be information out there somewhere in cyberspace that would tell him more about the death symbol and how to combat it. But so far, he was finding absolutely nothing.

After Elizabeth had regained consciousness, Dean had managed to locate a small, abandoned cottage in the woods nearby. They were unable to figure out even the direction in which Cas had been trying to take them, let alone the destination. Furthermore, as Dean sensibly (and much to Sam's discouragement) pointed out, until they knew how the ritual was performed, they couldn't do anything to help her, anyway.

Dean was sitting on a small sofa in the living room. Elizabeth sat in a lumpy armchair. Sam and his computer both sat at the table on the other side of the room. He ran his long, slender fingers through his brown hair, sighing heavily as he clicked on yet another hyperlink.

Dean and Elizabeth watched him concernedly. Dean called across the room, "Hey, Sam, you find anything yet?"

Sam shook his head as he scrolled down the page. "Not yet, but I'm still looking." He smiled as a reputable article pleasantly surprised him. "Hey, I found something!"

Dean and Elizabeth both hurried to him, kneeling beside him. "What'd you find?" Dean asked.

"It's the symbol," Sam said, showing them a picture. "'Used in ancient rituals around the world to mark targets for attacks by evil spirits/demons. A very powerful symbol, used only to mark god-like victims.'"

"Angels," Dean realized.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, nodding. "'The ritual could only be performed by an experienced witch who called a very powerful demon to burn the mark into the victim's scalp."

Dean frowned. "How convenient for Meg. She's both. But we already know all this, Sam."

Elizabeth reached behind Sam to slap Dean's shoulder in annoyance. She shook her head at him.

Sam continued, "'The first part of the symbol, a circle in a hexagon, posed no threat except as a way of tracking the victim. At any time, the witch could locate the victim by contacting the demon who branded him. but when covered with an X, the symbol became a mark of death. The victim would then only live until dawn the next day, when he would be-'" He paused and glanced at Elizabeth. Her wide eyes and pale face told him that she had already read it, so he might as well finish. "'When he would be ripped apart from the inside in a very painful and gruesome death.'"

Elizabeth gulped.

"Yikes," Dean said. "Does it say how to break the curse?"

Sam scrolled down, and as he read, his expression became grim. "Yeah, it does," he said sadly. "'The mark could only be removed by a special shaman with a vial of a god's power."

Dean's face fell. "So, a witch has to call a demon to mark an angel, and only another angel can undo it?"

Sam's lips tightened determinedly. "There has to be another way," he said, typing rapidly. "There's almost always another way."

Dean was getting worried about him. "Sam, it's one in the morning. You've gotta get some sleep, man. You've done what you could."

Sam stared at him in shock. "Dean, what the hell are you saying?"

Elizabeth halted the conversation by slamming Sam's laptop closed and proceeding to sit on it, cross-legged. Sam gave her a stunned look. "Elizabeth, what-?"

She set her jaw.

Sam made a bitchface at her and said, "Elizabeth, get off my computer. You're being childish. And you're gonna break it."

Elizabeth wiggled her bottom and shook her head.

"Come on, man," Dean said. "You can't keep going forever. You need some sleep."

Sam glared at Dean, his eyes burning fiercely. "How can you expect me to sleep knowing that there's a human life at stake?"

"Cuz I'll be out here doing the research," Dean promised him. "I'm not gonna let her die, either."

Sam was about ready to agree, but Elizabeth shook her head firmly, pointed at both of them, and folded her hands like she was going to sleep. "No," Sam and Dean both said sternly. Dean said, "If one of us goes to sleep, the other one has to stay up to keep looking."

Elizabeth shook her head again.

Sam was at his wit's end. "Elizabeth, do you want to die? Is that it?"

Elizabeth lowered her eyes and bit her lip. She slid off the coffee table and went into the cabin's one small bedroom.

"Eliz-" Sam started to call, but she wasn't listening.

Dean sighed heavily, "I'll go talk to her."

"No," Sam said softly, shaking his head. "No, I'll do it." he got up and went to the bedroom, rapping softly on the door. After a moment, Elizabeth opened it and let him in.

Dean let out another heavy sigh and reopened Sam's laptop. He didn't feel like digging through his duffel bag for his own. But he felt he had to do something.


	13. Chapter 13

After letting Sam into the bedroom and closing the door behind him, Elizabeth sat on her bed, staring out the window. White points of light glittered in the inky black sky overhead. The three stars Castiel had shown her earlier had already set below the horizon. Elizabeth just liked to look at the stars and think.

Sam sat down gently beside her. "Elizabeth," he began softly, "I- I'm sorry, for my outburst. I just…." He stared hard at a loose thread in the worn rug beside the bed. "I just don't understand why you seem so indifferent about all this. You don't seem to care that you're gonna die." Like Dean, when he'd made that one-year deal with the Crossroads Demon. Or worse, maybe she wanted to die. Not in a suicidal kind of way, but more like she was giving herself up. Her manner was very much like Madison's before-

Sam cut off his own line of thought before it got any further. But he couldn't help noticing that Elizabeth had the same look of fear and self-hatred and desperation that Madison had shown. He placed a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head slowly. Using sign language, she answered Sam, "_No, of course I don't want to die. But the idea of spending eternity away from Earth, maybe as an angel_…." She sighed again and turned to Sam. "_I already know what I'm gonna be like. I won't be human anymore. I won't have human feelings. I'll forget them all. It'll be just like when I was a child. You know what it felt like the first time I laughed_?"

Sam shook her head. He was both fascinated and horrified by what she was saying, as he'd never really known what her life would be like once she left, although he had been wondering about it.

"It _was like I'd been dead for seven years and I'd finally come to life_," Elizabeth explained. "_Like Pinocchio becoming a real boy. I think maybe I was happier than he was, though_."

Sam's lips twitched. He could sympathize with her on this point very well.

"_And now, it's like I'm gonna die again. I'm gonna be walking around in the clouds, an emotionally numb zombie with wings and a halo_."

Sam looked puzzled. "Not all angels are like that."

"_No_," Elizabeth agreed. "_But the ones who aren't killers are_."

Sam furrowed his brow skeptically. "You sure talked to Cas a lot more than I thought."

"_A lot of it I learned from my mother_," Elizabeth signed. "_I always knew she was an angel. I mean, I never saw her wings until she dies, and I only heard her real voice when she would sing to me, when I was very little; but I wasn't stupid. I figured it out. I'd ask her about angels, but she didn't like to answer. What little bit she did tell me was that some angels are good and some are bad. I always wanted to be one of the good angels_." She scoffed. "_And then, to find out that they're only good cuz they have a conscience. Cas is great, but he's not human, and he never will be_."

Sam muttered, "He's pretty close."

Elizabeth shrugged. "_I'd just as soon die as become like that_."

Sam said, "You talk like those are your only two choices."

"_It's my destiny_," Elizabeth said scornfully, "_as I understand it_."

Sam smiled sadly. "You know what I've learned about destiny? Screw it. if Dean and I had followed our destiny, we'd be smack in the middle of the Apocalypse right now. You and your family would have been killed ages ago."

Elizabeth nodded. "_You know, the hardest part of all of this is knowing that they're dead because of me. Meg killed them to get to me._"

Sam's expression turned somber as he read her hand signals. She was saying the same things he'd always told himself. She was eating herself up inside. "Don't say that," he told her. "It's not your fault. Believe me, everyone I've ever cared about has died because of me. Everyone, including Dean. Cas brought him back. But you can't keep thinking about it. You'll only hurt yourself more."

"_What do I do_?" Elizabeth asked. "_I can't stop thinking about it, Sam_."

Sam chewed on his lip for a moment. "I'll tell you what Dean and I do. We look at the people around us, the ones who have normal lives, aside from haunting or possessions or whatever. We figure, since our lives are so screwed to hell, we might as well help out some others."

Elizabeth smiled a little.

"There haven't been that many of you," Sam reminded her. "No one knows what you're really gonna be like in a hundred years. I don't think you'll forget what it's like to be human. You've got a good heart. You'll be an angel, and you'll save people, the way Cas does, the way Dean and I try to." Her hand was lying beside her on the bed. Sam covered her hand with his own.

Elizabeth intertwined her fingers with his for just a moment, enjoying the feeling of her small hand in his stronger one. Then she signed, "_Thanks, Sam. I feel a little better_." She circled her arms around his neck and hugged him. Sam shyly returned the embrace.

Elizabeth finally drew back, lightly tracing her fingers over Sam's neck. He felt his heart stop and leap into his throat as Elizabeth's gaze locked with his. She came close again and kissed him gently on the lips. Sam enjoyed it, but didn't return it. Elizabeth paused to give him a questioning look.

Sam shook his head apologetically. "I'm sorry. I just can't take advantage of you on your-" He stopped and dropped his gaze.

Elizabeth chuckled. "_On my 'last night'?_"

Sam nodded.

"_One way or another, Sam, this will be my last night. I want it to be something I'll never forget_."

Sam laughed lightly. "Sounds like something Dean would say to a girl." He wanted her, but it just didn't seem right for him to be sleeping with her when he should be looking for a way to save her.

Elizabeth signed slowly, making sure Sam caught every letter. Sam's mouth fell open. "Your… first?" He shook his head quickly, more unwilling now than before. "No. No, I won't. I- I've never… Not with…." He shook his head and backed away.

Elizabeth silenced him by reaching over and placing a finger on his soft, pink lips. She signed quickly. "_I want to do this, Sam. Think of it as a last request. You wouldn't refuse the fair maiden her last request, would you_?"

While Sam was reflecting on the irony of her use of the word "maiden", Elizabeth threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Sam's inhibitions fell away as he let his fingers get tangled in her long hair, and he laid her back on the bed.


	14. Chapter 14

Sam leaned on one elbow, looking down at Elizabeth. She looked so beautiful, so peaceful, as she lay sleeping- and, Sam thought with a wry grin, angelic. He twirled her strawberry blonde locks in his fingers, stroking his hand gently across her smooth, white cheekbone. She was so young and lovely and full of life- and she deserved to live it, if not on Earth, then in heaven. Sam was quite sure that he'd convinced her that death was not the preferable solution. But unless they could figure out how to break the spell, there was no solution.

Sam's lips tightened and his eyes burned. One thing was for sure: he would _not_ let her die tonight!

Slowly, trying not to awaken her, Sam slid out of bed. Silhouetted by the starlight streaming through the window, he pulled his pants over his hips, slipped into his T-shirt, and left the room quietly, glancing at his watch. It was four o'clock in the morning. Dawn would come at about six-thirty. That gave him an hour and a half to find a way to save her.

Sam shut the bedroom door quietly behind him, the click of the latch barely audible. As he looked around the living room, he saw Dean sitting by the coffee table, his head resting in his hand, his elbow propped on the table. Sam's laptop was still standing open, a silvery-gray, grinning death's head bouncing around in a pitch black background. Sam tapped on Dean's head.

Dean awoke suddenly, snorting and spluttering, "I swear, I didn't do anything!"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Dean?"

Dean looked up, his sleepy eyes having trouble focusing. "Oh!" he said, grinning sheepishly. "I was trying to look up some stuff while you were… talking." He cleared his throat and avoided Sam's warning look. "Anyway, I must've dropped off."

Sam waved away his brother's excuse. He was already feeling guilty about leaving Dean to do the research while he had the fun. Well, not just for fun; he did have real feelings for Elizabeth, emotions he hadn't felt in many years. He would be very sad to see her leave, but he couldn't stand by and watch her die. "Forget it," he told Dean. "Do you still have that US road map in the Impala?"

Dean gave him a puzzled look. "Yeah, somewhere."

Sam slapped his shoulder. "Get up. We've gotta go find it." He strode briskly towards the front door.

Dean stood up stiffly, stretching his arms and back. "What, now?"

Sam turned and looked at him determinedly. "Yes, now."

Dean let his shoulders sag, but he remembered what Sam had said about being treated as an equal member of the team. And he could see the light in Sam's eyes, hear the determination in Sam's voice. He was not going to let anything happen to Elizabeth. Good. Dean nodded and followed Sam out to the car.

Sam grimaced as he removed several bacon cheeseburger wrappers from under the Impala's driver's seat in his search for the lost road map. "Dude, I swear, you have got to start cleaning out the Impala on a regular basis."

"I do," Dean said defensively, removing some dead leaves and gravel from under the passenger's seat.

"Mind telling me your definition of 'regular'?" Sam asked as he held up a Mcrib wrapper.

Dean winced slightly under Sam's scolding gaze. "It is regular," he said again. "Just not often."

Sam frowned, disgusted.

"Hey!" Dean said excitedly. He pulled out a vial of swirling blue liquid and a black cell phone. "It's Cas' phone," he said. "Must've dropped it under here before he left."

Sam narrowed his eyes, studying the vial. "And I'm guessing that's his grace." Sam shook his head. "He's more careful than that."

"You're right," Dean realized. "Cas didn't drop 'em. He _stashed _'em, where we'd find 'em."

Sam was a little puzzled. "The grace I understand, but the cell phone?" A thought came to him. "Dean, gimme that for a sec." he punched some buttons and raised his eyebrows. "He has it uplinked to the Internet."

Dean looked stunned. "Cas? Where'd he learn to do that?"

Sam shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me. But one of his links is a very up-close and detailed map of a one-mile square area. And another one…." Sam's mouth fell open, and his eyes lit up hopefully. "He left himself a note. Complete instructions for the ritual." He looked over at Dean, who still rummaged around, looking for the map. "Dean, he gave us everything we need for this! Probably anticipated that something would happen to him. This map must show the ritual site."

"Ha!" said Dean, grinning triumphantly as he held up a large, flat, dark blue book. "Found the road map."

Sam handed Dean the cell phone. Both boys settled into the front seat while Dean flipped through the map. Sam brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes and bent over to see the map better.

Dean pointed at a thin line on the road map. "Okay, we're here. Meg stopped us here, on the highway about a mile away. We came from this direction…" He traced the highway with his finger. "So we're probably headed in this direction…." He looked at the map on Cas' phone. His shoulders sagged again. "I'll be damned."

"What?"

Dean looked up at Sam and let out a timid, mirthless chuckle. "Before I tell you, Sammy, promise me you won't punch me."

Sam gave him a funny look. "Why the hell would I do that?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Cuz this whole time, we've only been ten miles from where we need to be."

Sam worked his jaw and shook his head angrily.

"Sam?"

Sam made his bitchface. "Just get the damn car started. I'm gonna get Elizabeth and our stuff and we're getting out of here." He trotted back up to the house.


	15. Chapter 15

Ten minutes later, they were on their way. Dean drove, Sam gave him directions according to Cas' map, and Elizabeth sat in the backseat, looking out the window.

"Okay, uh… turn right up here," Sam directed.

Dean turned onto a gravel road.

"Go five miles," Sam said. "And then we have to walk about a mile to get there."

Dean nodded. "Got it."

Sam glanced aback at Elizabeth. "You okay?"

She nodded and smiled softly at him. Sam couldn't help smiling back.

Dean saw the way they were looking at each other. It seemed cruel to bring up and unfortunate bit of information right now, but they needed to know. "Sam, I found something while I was looking stuff up. Every source said the ritual had to be performed by a shaman or priest with god-like powers."

"An angel," Sam presumed.

"Yup."

Sam shrugged. "So? We've got the ritual and some of Cas' grace, right?"

Dean shook his head. "I found an old tradition that says anyone else trying to perform the ritual would 'hear a rushing of great wings and be swallowed by the sky'. Apparently, heaven thinks it's some kind of blasphemy or something and destroys anyone doing it except an angel."

"Mm-hmm," Sam said somberly, trying to block out Dean's warning. "Well, it's a chance I'll just have to take, then."

Dean gave him a frightened look. "What are you, suicidal? You do it, you die."

"And if I don't, _she_ dies," Sam reminded him angrily.

"I'm not gonna let you kill yourself, Sam."

"So you're gonna let her die?"

"It's too big of a risk."

"When the hell has that ever stopped us? I am not about to let some poor girl die because there's a _possibility_ that I might be a casualty."

"I'm not letting you do it, Sam!" shouted Dean. "If you're insistent on us going through with this, I'll do it."

Sam was stunned for a few seconds. Then, "No, you won't."

"If one of us is gonna die, it might as well be me," Dean said. "I mean, you've been dead four times already; me, only three. I want to make it even."

Sam's nostrils flared and his eyes flashed. "That's not funny, Dean." His hazel eyes burned a bright yellow. His voice was lower, but firmer, as he said, "One of us is gonna have to give his life. For her. It's gonna be me."

Dean looked at him strangely. "You're serious?"

"Yes," Sam said. "Look, you said you'd start respecting my ideas."

"Letting you kill yourself was not part of the contract!"

Elizabeth, who had been listening the whole time in quiet shock, suddenly thumped the back of Sam's seat so violently that it made both boys jump in fright. She stuck her hands up between the seats and signed, "_One: Don't talk about me like I'm not here. Two: Quit with the fucking heroics, both of you_."

"What's she saying, Sammy?" Dean asked. (Sam hadn't translated Elizabeth's sign language.)

"Elizabeth…" Sam began.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No one is dying for me. I don't want to see either of you hurt." She met Sam's gaze. "Especially you."

Sam held her gaze for a long moment. Then he turned around to face the front again, swallowing hard. His eyes stung badly. He could see the faintest glow off to the east. "Elizabeth…."

Sam gasped sharply and grabbed the sides of his seat as Dean slammed on the brake, nearly throwing Elizabeth into the front seat with them.

Meg stood in the middle of the road. Dean couldn't stop in time, and the Impala crashed into her, smashing in the front of the car. Steam whistled as it escaped from under the hood.

Meg smiled at them malevolently.

Dean's door was stuck. He kicked it open and joined Sam as he helped Elizabeth get out of the backseat. Dean spun towards Meg, who stood with her arms folded, watching Elizabeth with a satisfied smile. "Come and get it, you bitch!" he shouted at her.

Sam slapped his shoulder and pointed up the road as three gigantic, black-eyed men, one of them taller than Sam, joined Meg in watching the boys. Meg shrugged, looking very self-satisfied. "Go ahead and run. We'll be right behind you."

Dean looked ready to take on the whole lot of them (probably he was just pissed at them for wrecking his car), but Sam grabbed his arm and the two of them ran into the trees, dragging Elizabeth between them.


	16. Chapter 16

Cas appeared in the middle of the cottage's one room. He looked around at the blood-red symbols on the walls and the circle on the floor. It didn't look as though Sam and Dean had been there yet. That was good. Despite what the legends said, they couldn't be hurt if they performed the ritual correctly. However, they could be severely punished. As Cas recollected, the standard punishment was twenty years in a coma.

But they were on their way, Cas was sure of that. That was why he had left the grace and instructions. Sam and Dean knew Elizabeth would die soon, and they would not allow it to happen. If Cas did not return in time, one of them would perform the ritual. Being both human and angel, Elizabeth was as important to them as she was to heaven. Or almost as important, since angels, for the most part are irreplaceable. Not that humans are "replaceable", by any means.

Cas sighed deeply, thinking that maybe Elizabeth was partly right, that maybe angels _can_ be unfeeling and uncaring. But not all.

Cas went outside and looked up at the sky. The morning glow was getting brighter, starting to turn the sky a pale pink. Cas had to find Elizabeth before the last star disappeared, in about half an hour. Sam and Dean still had the Enochian symbols burned into their ribs, hiding them from Cas and all other angels.

_But not Elizabeth_, Cas thought with a slight smile as he took to the air. As it turned out, he didn't even have to look for her. A large amount of demonic activity to the south pointed her out more clearly than if she'd sent up a flare. As he came down, he could see what was happening. Meg and three other demons held Sam and Dean up against two trees. Elizabeth knelt in the midst of them, holding her belly, coughing up blood.

Cas landed and placed a hand on the head of one of the lesser demons. Bright light poured from the possessed man's eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, and he collapsed in a heap. Cas dispatched the other two in a similar manner, after dodging and ducking a few swings from each one.

Only Meg was left. She gave Cas a look of contempt and disgust and scoffed, "Oh no, not you!" She vanished.

Dean shouted, "Cas, behind you!"

Cas rolled on the ground just as Meg slashed at him from behind with the angel blade, tearing his coat. He popped back up and grabbed the end of the blade. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.

Meg grinned. "From my father. My _real_ father."

"Lucifer?"

"He lost it when he fell in his cage, and he told me many years ago that if I found it, I should use it. One way or another, he wanted me to kill you. _All_ of you." She rolled her eyes and sighed in annoyance. "Well, except for _one_, but he's still locked in with Lu, anyway."

Cas ripped the blade out of her hands, kicked her to the ground, and placed a foot on her chest, pinning her. Meg grinned smugly. "Kinky. You know, this is gonna screw up our relationship, don't you?"

Cas held the blade up in the air, scowling at the demon bitch.

"That's an angel blade, you moron," Meg said. "It can't kill me."

"No," Cas agreed. He drove it into her heart. Meg threw her head back and screamed. The black demon smoke escaped from her mouth and dissolved into the ground. Cas concluded, "But it'll hurt like hell." He tucked the blade inside his trench coat. He noticed the rip in the side of the coat and fingered it. "I really liked this coat," he said sadly.

Sam and Dean both fell to the ground now that Meg's demonic power had been broken. Dean growled, "Just once, I wish they'd pin us to the ground instead of a tree or a wall." The boys helped each other get up and then ran to Elizabeth.

Sam reached her first and held her in his arms. He looked up at Cas. "Is there still time?" he asked, tears glistening in his eyes.

Cas touched Elizabeth's head. Her pain disappeared and she was able to get up, with Sam's help. She was still very weak. "It's only temporary," Cas told them. "The curse on her is unbreakable. As long as she remains here, she will die when the last star disappears from the sky. She must go to heaven."

Elizabeth rested her head weakly against Sam's chest. Sam looked up at Cas. "There's no other way?"

Cas shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not." He looked up at the last star twinkling in the sky. "We don't have much more time."

Sam stood up, carrying Elizabeth in his strong arms. Cas held his arms out to her, and Sam transferred her to him.

Cas nodded to the other two. "Touch my arm." They obeyed, and they all disappeared together.


	17. Chapter 17

Cas, carrying Elizabeth in his arms, transported Sam and Dean with him to the cottage. As soon as he arrived, Cas gently set Elizabeth inside the circle in the middle of the circle, being careful to tuck in her arms and legs so that no part of her was sticking out of the circle.

Cas gave Elizabeth a strange look and whispered, "There's something different about you."

Elizabeth swallowed hard and cast a fleeting glance towards Sam. Cas nodded in understanding. "I see."

Elizabeth looked up at Sam. Cas stepped back to allow Sam to kneel beside Elizabeth. Elizabeth took Sam's hand in hers and smiled at him. His lips twitched slightly and he bent down to give her one last kiss.

Reluctantly, Sam stood up and backed away. Dean said, "Take care of yourself, Lizzie."

Elizabeth nodded weakly.

Cas stood over Elizabeth and began pronouncing Enochian words. The earth rumbled beneath them. Cas looked up at Sam and Dean. "Cover your ears," he ordered. "Close your eyes."

They did as they were instructed. Cas finished the incantation, and the cottage was filled with a bright light and a piercing shriek.

When he was done, Elizabeth was gone. Sam and Dean ventured to look up. They looked around and slowly uncovered their ears. Sam looked up at Cas.

"She's gone," Cas told him, pointing out the window. Sam and Dean hurried to the window to look. A strange sight met their eyes- a shooting star, moving backwards, out into space.

Dean looked back at Cas. "Is that….?"

Cas nodded. "She's on her way home."

Sam stared up at the sky. The last flickering star disappeared as dawn broke. His eyes were stinging again. He blinked quickly and tried not to sniffle, aware that Dean and Cas were both watching him.

The cottage was as good a place to squat as any, so Sam and Dean decided to stay there while Dean fixed the car, or at least got it working good enough to get back to Bobby's salvage yard for more parts to get her back into perfect shape. Right now, Dean made do, trying to reassemble the busted, twisted parts just to get it to work for the three hour drive back to Bobby's. he'd been working on it all day, and night was falling again. Sam helped out a little, as much as Dean would let him, but mostly, Dean worked alone.

"Damn that Meg," Dean muttered. "I ever see her again, I'm gonna gank her for good, I swear!" He looked up at Sam, sitting on a stump nearby, looking up at the stars and holding a bottle of beer. Dean stood up and gave his brother a worried look. "Sam? You okay?"

Sam looked over at him, lowered his eyes, nodded sadly, and looked back up at the stars. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Dean set his wrench on the ground, wiped his hands on the rag, and went over to Sam. "You holding up all right?"

Sam nodded again, looking puzzled, if not annoyed. "Yeah. Yeah, I said I was. Why?"

Dean crouched beside him. "You already missing her?"

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I know it sounds strange, but I felt like we were similar in a way. We both had something supernatural inside us that others wanted to use to hurt people." He studied his hands. "I can understand why she would rather die."

"Sam," Dean said, "that's all over for you. And as for Elizabeth, you helped her make the right choice."

"She didn't want to go, Dean," Sam said. He sighed again. "I just wonder if she's happy."

Dean nodded. "I'm sure she is. And I'm sure she'll make a great angel someday, cuz she'll remember what it's like to be human. She was a pretty good person. She won't forget."

Sam nodded. "I hope so."

Dean clapped his brother's shoulder and got up to leave. Sam said quickly, "Dean?" He shrugged and studied his hands for a moment. He was doing that a lot lately. "Thanks for listening to me- at least some of the time."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Great, another Hallmark moment."

Sam shook his head and let Dean get back to the car, working by flashlight, as it was completely dark by now. But Sam wasn't left completely alone, as Cas now came up beside him. Sam gave him a puzzled look. "Elizabeth asked me to let you know that she's okay."

Sam asked him. "Where is she?"

Cas pointed up at the group of three stars he'd shown Elizabeth. They were just rising over the trees. "In the middle of those stars." He looked down at Sam, seeing the young man's angst. "She's fine, Sam. She's happy."

"Cas," Sam began reluctantly. "Can you look into the future, just for a second, and see… see what's gonna happen, to her?"

Cas took a deep breath and clasped his hands behind him, looking up at the stars. He wasn't supposed to do this, and it wasn't an easy thing to do… but for Sam, and for Elizabeth…. "She will become an angel, Sam, if nothing changes the events set in motion."

Sam swallowed. "Will she… forget?"

Cas shook his head, the vaguest shadow of a smile appearing on his face. "No. She couldn't even if she tried."

Sam felt hopeful. "Why not?" What would she remember? Her parents? Him and Dean? Or just humanity in general?

Cas considered his answer for a moment. "She's carrying something with her to make her remember."

Sam tilted his head slightly and gave Cas a questioning look. "What?"

Cas looked at Sam squarely. "She will give birth to a child, a girl- half-human and half-angel, like Elizabeth."

Sam's eyes glowed brightly. He was speechless for a moment, his mouth hanging open. He finally stammered, "My daughter?"

Cas nodded solemnly.

Sam was overjoyed and sorrowful at the same time. Overjoyed at the thought of being a father- to an angel, no less!- and sorrowful because… "I'll never get to see her, will I?"

"She will most likely live in heaven," Cas said. "A child of heaven can come to Earth, but it's never happened before. None of their mothers ever approved it."

Sam looked back up at the stars. "Could… could you tell me about her, from time to time- what she looks like, what she's like. I want… I want to feel like I at least know something about her."

Cas sighed. "Sam, I am still fighting a war."

Sam nodded, ashamed of his selfishness.

Cas said, as begrudgingly as he could manage (because he did feel for Sam and he understood the need to know about family, but still did not want Sam to take advantage of him), "I will keep an eye on them both, and if I should have to come here, I can tell you how they are doing."

Sam looked up at him. Cas' eyes held that little bit of softness that he so rarely allowed himself to show. Sam nodded and smiled slightly. "Thank you."

And then Cas left him. Sam looked up at the stars, watching and wondering. His large, hazel eyes filled with tears, and one of the largest escaped past his long lashes to roll down his cheek.


End file.
